


Shameless

by AllJokesAside



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Armin Arlert is a Little Shit, Bottom Armin Arlert, Cock Slut Armin Arlert, DID I MENTION SPOILERS, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, Hair Kink, Heres some trash, Home Life, Homelessness, Humiliation, Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jean Kirstein Being An Asshole, Jean Kirstein being an asshole again, Jearmin - Freeform, Jearmin one shot, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Of course that's already a tag, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Porn, Post-Time Skip, Public Blow Jobs, Sassy Armin Arlert, Sexy Times, Shameless Smut, Top Jean Kirstein, Two Shot, Well spoilers, You're Welcome, chapter 2, cute nicknames, eren's filthy mouth, jearmin smut, officers, plot if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2018-11-29 13:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11441427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllJokesAside/pseuds/AllJokesAside
Summary: Jean and Armin have a bit of fun at Eren's expense.“Not doing anything of use, huh, Kirstein?” Eren sneers and Jean doesn’t take as much offense as usual, feels smug in knowing that he’s got Armin between his legs and Eren is completely unaware of it.“Yeah." Jean says smartly, “You caught me.”WARNING FOR SPOILERS IF YOU AREN'T CAUGHT UP WITH THE MANGA. (To enjoy without spoilers, skip the first eight paragraphs. I don't recommend it, but do what you gotta do.)Now includes an additional chapter!





	1. Chapter 1

Reports, so many reports. Jean is drowning in reports.

He stares, numbly, at the stack of papers that crowd his desk and mourns his loss of innocence. The promotion had sounded good, in theory. He would get a higher pay, finally be able to move his mother from that ratty, rodent infested stone-wall house of theirs and could also afford to live on his own off the Corps castle grounds. It sounded like a godsend, there was no question. Who’d argue with such perks?

After the passing of Erwin Smith and his diligent means, quick wits and fast hands, his duties had fallen into despair. The things he’d overseen, worked over and processed like a well-oiled machine, collected dust and got back logged. It spoke to his brilliance that he could juggle as much as he did on his plate before his untimely death. The survey corps struggled to divvy up his responsibilities and Jean, put forth by recommendations from his adorable, loving boyfriend, Armin Arlert, was assigned this task.

He knew Armin meant well, but he wonders now if it had all been a ploy to keep Jean in his presence now that he too was stuck in an office of his own, job now solely to focus on strategy and planning. Not that he’s complaining.

The titans were long gone, crushed to bright specs and searing smoke now that they’ve mastered Eren’s crystallization ability. It should be peace time, Jean thinks begrudgingly as he leans back in his chair and eyes the cruel stacks warily, but now they’re intercepting these hulking pieces of advanced technology they’ve never encountered before. Armin had explained it for them all after seeing one first hand, tearing one to shreds in its attempt to reach their shores.

 _“These are_ ships _, they’re shown here and here in this text, if you look on page eighty-two," Jean doesn't, instead he stares at Armin as he continues._

_"Combined with the information we’ve found in the late Dr. Jaegers belongings, the churches’ resurfaced passages and even, the very book my late parents left behind for me, it’s all but confirmed. The information matches across the board. They’re boats, of course, but they’re highly advanced and equipped with dangerous, cannon-like weaponry. This, coupled with whatever device was used to take this image from the Jaeger cellar, means our enemy is far superior then we can imagine.” Armin presented this to the clutter of high-ranking officers at their latest meeting. Some small remnants of the bulking, foreign things were spread out on the desk, left over from Eren and Armin’s latest trampling of them (Jean still finds it hard to grasp at the idea that his sweet, precious boyfriend is a titan, too). Books were open and about, the picture of the so-called Zeke, Dina and Dr. Jaeger at the center of it all._

Jean remembers how shocking the discovery was, how intently everyone murmured amongst themselves. Hange’s glasses glinted knowingly, eyes serious as stone, never as playful as before Erwin’s demise these days.

But Jean, amidst it all, could only focus on one thing. Armin, and his tauntingly sinew frame prancing around in that tight uniform of theirs. His hair now, passed his shoulders, curled around his collar bone, made Jean’s throat dry. His eyes were steely and sure, and Jean was hot under his collar at his aged confidence. He’s taller now, comes up just below Jean’s eyes with those long legs that he strangles Jean with when they move together. He remembers how hard he fucks him after it all. They don’t even make it to Armin’s quarters, instead they stumble right into this very office Jean sits at now and fuck against this exact desk. He remembers how Armin’s seed looks when he releases on the oak afterwards, just from the way Jean nails him savagely. He rubs his finger across the surface, imagines that’s where it was.

Jean isn’t thinking about paper work anymore, not at all. And, fuck it, he thinks as he spreads his legs, and unbuttons his fly. There’s no point in feeling guilty because the shit wasn’t getting done, anyway. Jean’s mind was completely gone, overwhelmed and at his limit for the day. He needs this, wants it, can’t get the way Armin had arched his back off the hard wood at Jean’s sharp thrusts out his mind and stifles a groan.

He’s stroking himself furiously, unashamed, when a knock sounds at the door and he questions his right to be in this position, finds himself embarrassed at the indecency of it all.

“I’m busy,” he calls, tries not to let his voice crack as he snatches his hands from his pants and rubs at his face, burning.

“It’s me,” Armin calls and Jean just about combusts out of humiliation.

The door knob wiggles, and Jean only realizes now that he hadn’t even gotten up and locked the door before he went to town like that. He’d been reckless. Armin pushes the door open, eyes lowered on the paper work in his hands.

“I’ve got some more stuff for you,” he says through a yawn, doesn’t notice how flustered Jean is behind his desk. He’s in his uniform, but his jacket is off and his form is on full display. It’s like some strange, dark forces want Jean to bust a nut just as badly as he himself does. “Commander Hange wants it by tomorrow,” Armin continues, distracted.

He only looks up when Jean hasn’t responded and, smart as a whip, he shuts the door immediately at the sight of him. It must be obvious, the way Jean’s leaned back, red and flustered as he eyes Armin across the room, what he’s been up to. He wonders if Armin can smell his musk, feels his dick twitch at the thought.

“Someone’s busy, alright,” Armin snickers, his button nose scrunches up in amusement as he eyes Jean, back pressed against the door as he takes him in. His tone is joking, but it husks and he's biting his lip.

“Yeah,” Jean breathes, forgets to be embarrassed now that Armin’s eying him like this. “It’s your fault.”

“Me?” Armin blinks, gives him this innocent look with the tilt of his head, bats his eyes at him and Jean knows he’s in trouble now. He shifts eagerly, feels a smirk twitch at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah,” Jean eases his hand back over his throbbing need, doesn’t remove his eyes from Armin’s hot gaze, “You do this to me.”

Armin cheeks are decidedly pink now, even though he can’t see Jean’s hand and that’s not an act. Jean loves that no matter how hard, how dirty, however many times they go at each other, tear each other down, Armin still has the decency to be abashed.

Distracted by his own hand on his cock, he barely registers Armin has moved until he’s right in front of him, spinning his chair around to face him getting down on his knees. Jean swallows, excited at what Armin intends, eager for what’s to come. Instead of speaking, he pulls Armin up by his collar and into his lap, relishes in the feeling of his cock grinding up and against his ass as he kisses him, expresses how hungry he is for him.

“I guess it’s my job to take care of it, then?” Armin gasps out when he pulls away, and Jean tries to nip him for it.

He wipes at his mouth and pushes Jean back in his seat when he leans in for more. It’s a question drenched in sugar. Armin does this all the time, drives Jean wild when acts like this. He’s all but purring, looking at Jean like a kitten as he moves to kneel between his legs again. Jean’s dick spurts out a kick of pre-come excitably just watching him. It should make him ashamed how hard he is already, nothings even happened, but Armin’s kneading his paw into Jean’s muscular thigh, tapping his thumb on his slit and Jean can’t see straight.

“Mm, yeah, I think so.” Armin says when he gets no verbal response.

Jean watches, entranced, as Armin tosses those shiny locks of his over his shoulder and leans forward to kiss around the base of him, flicks his tongue out at the crease between his sack and his dick, runs his tongue along the underside tentatively.

Jean doesn’t fucking know how he’s going to last, he wishes Armin would get on with it and he kicks the heel of his boot against Armin’s behind to urge him forward. The other stumbles closer, knees sliding as he falls further into Jean’s crotch and Jean bites his tongue to keep from groaning out loud when his dick gets smothered in Armin’s hair, rubs into his agonizingly soft tresses.

Jean wants to cum all over it.

“C’mon, baby,” he croons, pushes Armin’s hair back, grasps the top half of it in his shaking grip and urges his mouth closer to his wet, leaking tip. “Stop making me wait, I’m gonna burst just looking at you.”

Armin coos, clucks his tongue at Jean’s actions and for a moment, Jean’s worried Armin’s going to pull away, make him pay for knocking him off balance like that.

He freezes up, starts to apologize, but just as he opens his mouth, Armin’s lips engulf his head and he’s enclosed around warm, wet, heat. It’s silky and tight and Jean thrusts in when Armin flicks his tongue under his foreskin.He doesn't mean it, can't help it and pulls back a litle when Armin chokes. He doesn't remove himself, though. He knows from experience that Armin can take it and let's him drool and flex over his cock as he recollects himself. 

“Fuck,” Jean throws his head back, adjusts his slippery hand in Armin’s hair and kicks his leg up on his desk. “That’s it, honey. That’s right.”

Armin hums appreciatively at the praise and it vibrates down Jean’s whole entire dick, makes his balls draw up deliciously. His other hand is moving back and forth along the length of him. Armin hasn’t even sucked him yet and Jean’s wondering how he can possibly restrain from shooting off once he starts when another knock sounds at his door.

He goes to call out for them to come back later, doesn’t even look away from Armin’s pink lips but then Armin sucks him down and cuts him off, makes him keen. Before Jean can get his bearings, Armin shifts so that he’s underneath Jean’s desk, makes Jean put his leg down and he takes him to the base. The door knob turns and Jean is breathless. He stares wide eyed at Armin, shock and adrenaline racing through his core as he catches the devilish glint in his eye, realizes Armin hasn’t locked the door.

Armin Arlert is not innocent.

No, he’s a slutty little thing when he wants to be. Jean knows this. But he doesn’t know just exactly how much of a little minx he is till now, and they’ve been seeing each other for a month by this point. It still shocks him to know Armin’s a sex kitten, but really it shouldn’t, when he thinks about it. He should’ve known immediately when he’d made his first move, kissed him on the lips behind the supply shed and was rendered speechless at the abruptness in which Armin had thrust his tongue in his mouth, pressed Jean into the creaky doors.

Jean has other things to worry about now, however, wonders why Armin is playing like this, making him go through something that could end so badly. The door opens and Jean grabs a hold of his pen and leans over a random piece of paper, doesn’t even know what it says, even as he stares at it because Armin has had the decency to stop his movements but his cock still rests warm and full on his tongue.

Armin has him completely at his mercy. Jeans groin is tight and his heart is racing, he hopes he doesn’t look as smarmy as he feels, swiping at his sweaty hairline.

“Hey, did you get that weapons order filled?” Connie says as he enters the room, eye brow raised at Jean’s hunched form. “Oh, you actually do work after all,” He laughs heartily and Jean is going to hell. He takes comfort in the fact that he knows Armin is, too.

Just as Jean makes to respond, Armin hollows his cheeks, sucks him hard and tight and Jean’s toes curl in his boots. Armin wants him to suffer, it seems.

“I, uh, yeah.”

“Can I have it?” Connie asks, making his way to the desk and Jean panics.

“I mean no.” He stutters, sweats, gives a shaky grin and sits back as he tries to school his expression. Armin rubs soothing circles at his thighs, but it doesn’t calm his jitters, just makes him hotter.

“Huh?”

Armin sucks him up, swirls his tongue on the head and dives down again, slowly.

Jean goes silent, unable to respond. He can only straighten out his face and stare into Connie’s eyes as Armin fondles his balls with the soft pads of his fingers, nuzzles into the fur at his pelvis. He wonders how he got here, can’t say he regrets it, and decides he wants to fuck Armin into the ground as punishment later. Connie gives him a weird look.

“I can come back later,” he says, thumbs behind him at the door. And oh, bless him. Jean could kiss his cue ball shaped head then if Armin didn’t have his dick in his greedy clutches. Jean breathes in through his nose and out slowly as Connie leaves, tries to control himself till he’s out the door completely.

“Dirty,” Jean comments with a cruel twist of his lips, but his eyes are warm and playful and Armin snorts with his mouthful.

“You’re such a slut, can’t even show our friends a little bit of respect. That hungry for it, hm?” Jean tisks, clicks his tongue as he watches through heavy lids as Armin sucks slowly, lazily, groans from deep within at his languid movements.

His cheeks are red from exertion, but his eyes are sultry as he stares up at Jean, removes him from his mouth just to kiss at his cock, little, wet, open-mouthed kisses that he knows drives Jean wild. Jean touches a hand to his hot cheek, caresses him as he watches, love drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s done deserve this sweetheart but he’s thanking the very Gods he knows will damn him as he admires Armin angelic features, rubs himself against his cheek. It makes a mess of his face.

It irritates him when he hears murmurs on the other side of the door. He listens to Connie and another.Armin's tongue is digging at his slit.

“Yeah, he’s in there,” Jean just barely makes out under the roaring of blood rushing in his ears. “I think he’s sick or something.”

Armin has let up, massages his thighs as if he wants Jean to cool down, doesn’t want to bring him to his end just yet. It’s cruel, but it’s so good Jean hums.

“That’s just an excuse,” Jean starts from his daze at this new voice, recognizes it as it gets louder, closer. This time, he’s a little nervous, honestly.

“He’s a lazy piece of shit, can’t do anything right,” Eren Jaeger voices, displeasure apparent and rough before he peeks his head in the door without so much as a knock and looks at Jean through narrowed, wary slits.

Jean sighs when Armin’s ministrations pause all together at the sound of Eren’s entrance, thinks that maybe this is where Armin draws the line. And really, he can’t blame him for it. They were pushing it as it is, but Jean’s hard as nails, his dick is flexing in Armin’s hands and he sort of doesn’t care at this point, he just wants to cum. And maybe, in the back of his mind, he wants Armin to continue in his precious Eren’s presence, thinks of it as a way to get back at him for all his annoying tendencies.

“Not doing anything of use, huh, Kirstein?” Eren sneers and Jean doesn’t take as much offense as usual, feels smug in knowing that he’s got Armin between his legs and Eren is unaware of it. It gives his adrenaline a newly recharged kick.

“Yeah,” Jean says smartly, “You caught me.”

Eren scrunches his face up at him and scuffs.

“Typical. You could at least get Connie those papers, we need them, you dunce.”

Jean goes to make a smart retort but is completely thrown off his kilter when Armin takes him in his mouth once more. Jean is shocked speechless. It takes him off guard so bad that he gasps, even with Eren right there across from him because Armin goes at it like he’s meant for it, sucks him all the way down and then pulls up with his hollowed cheeks. Jean breaks his pen, snaps it completely.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Eren asks, crosses his arms, but his eyes are a little softer, like he’s trying to figure out if Jean’s actually crazy.

“Nothing! Ah,” Jean exclaims, waves his hands, “It’s nothing, ugh, I’m just a little sick.” He coughs, covers a groan as Armin picks up the pace, bobs his head up and down like he wants Jean to cum while Eren’s standing there.

Jean turns red from embarrassment, feels the heat coiling at an alarming rate in his gut. Armin sucks particularly hard, makes Jean cough again to cover the crude squelching sound and Jean is absolutely stunned. Armin has no shame and it makes him crazy, drives him up the wall with arousal.

“Do you need me to get some one?” Eren’s brows furrow and his lip juts out like he feels guilty but Jean doesn’t care because his hips have lifted from his seat and he covers him mouth with his hand, tries to smile at Eren from behind his sweaty digits.

“Um.” Eren says, completely concerned now.

“Go away.” Jean rasps, rudely, dismissively because in the heat of the moment he’s forgotten that he doesn’t need to explain himself to Eren, anyway. Armin twists on his dick, swirls expertly, speeds up his bob and rolls his balls in his soft palm.  Jean wants to fuck his face, Eren needs to go.

“Fuck you too,” Eren says indignantly, offended. But it works and he slams the door on his way out. It shakes everything so bad that a stack of papers topples over his desk but Jean doesn’t pay it any mind because Armin has some nerve.

He winds his hand in that blonde hair again, pushes back so he can see him and doesn’t care that the door is still unlocked as he thrusts up into his mouth, pushes his head down and fucks into his searing heat. His eyes cross when the head of his dick brushes the back of his throat, the length of it sliding against the roof of his mouth, over, and over again.

“Armin, fuck,” he groans, hips stuttering, smashing his fist into his desk, “Fuck, Armin, here it comes."

Armin slurps, urges him off the edge and it's disgustingly hot.

 _"Take it,"_ He groans hoarsely, loud and unable to restrain himself as he snaps.

Armin pulls off him, strokes his hand quickly along Jean’s length, opens his mouth for him. But Jean doesn’t want that, despite his incoherent rambles. His dick is already spurting his release before he can get at what he wants. So, he just pulls at Armin’s hair so that it wraps around his cock and he thrusts against the soft locks, makes sure the rest of his spend cakes in his hair messily. His release is earth-shattering, rocks him to his core, makes his abs sore with how tightly they clench together.

“Ugh, _Jean,”_ Armin is caught off guard by this switch up, complains as he snaps his head back just as the last of Jean's semen shoots out, gets him right across his lip.

And fuck if that wasn’t the best orgasm Jean’s ever had.

“My hair,” Armin moans.

Jean is panting, high on cloud nine and can’t see the problem.

“I think,” he huffs, chest rising, “It looks good.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Jean laughs breathlessly, stunned at the swear and rubs at the ejaculate on Armin’s lip, wipes it away kindly.

“Armin, sweetie, you have no room to talk right about now.”

Armin stops whining long enough to give Jean a snort, laughs at him as he crawls back into his lap, careful of his softening cock.

“You liked it,” Armin mumbles sweetly, presses his lips to the corner of Jean’s mouth.

He does it for him, knows Jean doesn’t like the taste of himself, but Jean doesn’t care. His limbs are soft and pliant and he feels so unbelievably good. He turns his head to capture Armin’s lips, licks even at the left-over traces of his seed.

“I loved it,” Jean corrects, “I love you.”

They straighten themselves up but they have to sneak out because nothing can be done about Armin’s hair, it’s a lost cause. Jean leaves first, makes sure the coast is clear before Armin tip toes out behind him. He grasps Armin’s small wrists, keeps him behind him in case someone happens by.

“That was close,” Armin giggles as they start down the hall, “You’re good at that.” He compliments, referring to his composure 

“Yeah, well, you’re no help,” Jean rolls his eyes, but he wants to kiss Armin, so he does.

“Hey, I almost forgot,” Eren’s voice rings out down the hall, he’s just turned the corner and Jean and Armin pull apart, jumping away comically, forgetting that Armin is using Jean as a shield.

“Oh, hey, Armin,” Eren says, jogging to meet them halfway and Armin has gone deathly still. Jean can’t think of anything to say. But Eren, curious at this reaction, pauses a few paces down the aisle before he can get a real good look at him.

He tilts his head, like a confused pup and glances at Jean’s office door and back from where he’s come, knows it’s the only other exit.

Armin’s hand is covering his face and he’s burning a fiery bright red. Jean would think it was cute if he wasn’t just as embarrassed as him. So, Armin’s not shameless after all, but it’s pretty funny how bad it snaps back for him, how quickly he retreats into that shy shell after being so lewd. Jean loves it.

Eren looks at them, looks at Jean’s door and then looks between the two of them again before his eyes bug out his head. Eren already knows they’re together so Jean knows in return that that’s not what he’s tripping out over. Eren knows exactly what they’ve just done.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers and Armin peeks at him through his fingers with a wince. Jean sighs.

“Oh, that’s fucking awful. Armin, _Armin? Seriously?_ Jesus Christ, where’s the disinfectant for _my fucking_ _brain_ ,” he rants, turning on his heel as he stomps away, cursing the entire time. They hear him, even when he’s out of sight.

“Fuck, God, Dammit, Fucking hell.”

Jean elbows Armin once he’s gone for good, but the other won’t remove his face from his hands.

“Hey, he’s gone.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t get mad at me, that was all you back there.” Jean shrugs, sated and happy that he’s loose and no longer pent up.

He’s glad Eren’s out his hair. It’s embarrassing, but he’ll get over it. Armin may not, he thinks with a snicker as he wraps the other up in his arms and walks him down the hall. Armin presses his face into Jean’s shirt. His skin is hot even through the expensive material.

_“Shut up.”_

Jean gives him a big, wet smooch on his cheek, tugs at a stray hair out of fondness for the goodtime he’s just been given, knows it’s one he’ll never forget as he appreciates his newly discovered kink(s).

“Thanks, babe.” He says, honestly. Armin swats his hands out his hair, makes it funkier. It's hopeless.

“Fuck off.”

Armin shyly slides his fingers through Jeans, though. The only thing that crosses Jean’s mind as they walk is that, huh, he’s never heard Armin curse before and hey, that’s pretty damn hot too.

The job isn’t so bad after all.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's not that I care," Eren starts, backing away from the door and Armin begins to die just a little inside. "You guys don't have to tip toe. We're all adults, he can be here."
> 
> That has to be the most mature thing Eren has ever uttered and Armin cannot even appreciate it correctly because he's too busy drowning in a pool of his own guilt.
> 
> It's a sequel!?
> 
> In which Eren is the problem and the solution, all the while having no say in the matter.
> 
> But mostly just more porn.

"Do you have to stare?"

The silence that took place before the query is shattered and Jean Kirschstein is thrown from his reverie. He registers that his eyes had in fact been on the blonde across from him, but his mind had been on other things.

Well, not exactly.

He was thinking about Armin, but not presently. It was a thought more so about their future, about how silly it is that they are currently in Armin and Eren's shared apartment, how ridiculous it is to him that Armin and Eren even still share a place to begin with.

He and Armin have been dating long enough now that living together shouldn't even be given a second thought.  Or at least, Jean likes to think so. They are very much in love and thus, very much committed, so why not take the next step? It would be official, then. They would really be together, together.

He would wake up him up with kisses and touches and go to bed with him in his arms. He's sure Armin would love that, yet Armin is seemingly reluctant to leave Eren and this crappy old place behind.

And Jean is a lot of things, but he's never been confident when it comes to inserting his place in between a relationship like Armin has with Eren, no matter how much the other annoys him insistently. This insecurity is most probably the reason why Jean struggles to voice these wishes even now, nearly a year into their relationship.  
It's definitely the biggest reason why he considers Eren such a thorn in his side.

And so he finds himself here, doing that weird, hazy  thing you do when you're staring but you aren't actually looking at someone with the blonde before him. Now that he notices that he is, he finds it sort of amusing that Armin hasn't even lifted his eyes from the work sprawled out in front of him. His face is smashed against his fist, head tilted down towards the paper he's reading now. A part of Jean wants to inform him that there really is no use in going through each and every report all the time, there are no more titans roaming around after all. A larger part of him refrains from doing so, because he knows better.

Armin's other hand holds a pen to his mouth where he taps thoughtfully at his bottom lip. He presses every few seconds, leaving a red indent against the delicate skin.  Jean admires how pink and shapely they are.

"You're still staring," Armin bemoans, eyes finally peering up at Jean who sits across from him in what's supposed to be Eren's seat.

Jean doesn't look away like he might have long ago now. Instead, the corners of his mouth tick up in amusement. 

"Is it bothering you?"

Armin squints at him, lets his eyes scan his face in a way that mocks that icy little look he gets when he's figuring out important things or trying to find ways to not get them all killed in the midst of death. He really is a pretty thing, but he's so analytical it can be unnerving, Jean admits. This look, however, is something more playful and Jean's lips purse in suspicion.

They stare at each other, quietly. Jean feels the heat start to spark in his gut, because, that's what this is right? He knows Armin's loosened up a ton since their first little venture into public sex, it's hot as hell how it switches from playful to sexual with them. Time and time again they found themselves in compromising positions amongst their cohorts and subordinates alike, the risk of being caught gearing up their hormones to extreme levels each time.  
From touches amongst their superiors, to outright sex in rooms next door to their commander's on-going meetings with the leaders of the other military factions.  
 

Still, it's surprising, given their current location and Armin's recently acquired 'no means no' when it comes to anything relating to he who shall not be named aloud.  
Jean has no complaints about this welcome change of heart. He shifts his knees below the table, tries to quell the heat forming at his groin at thoughts of past dalliances and eager wishes, eyes drawn to the blonde strands of hair that tickle at Armin's chin,  most of it drawn back into a bun at the nape of his neck.  
Jean imagines it freed, a gold crown atop his lithe shoulders. 

And, damn, does that do it for him.

They're both leaning forward and the obvious look Armin gives Jean's mouth is enough to melt any bit of protest Jean probably didn't have in his bones. It's exciting as fuck, Jean wants to fuck. Those are definitely 'fuck-me' eyes Armin's laying on him and he's more than happy to comply.  
Then, like a switch, Armin's face goes stone cold.  Jean only realizes just how close they had gotten now that his face is no longer warm from the little heated puffs of breath Armin had been caressing his lips with.

"No," He says simply.

_What?_

"What?" Jean sits back and dead-pans.

Armin takes his feet from under him and sits correctly in his chair, moving back as well. He gives Jean this devious little grin before taking a stand and gathering his notes into a folder.

"Hey," Jean doesn't pout, but the noise that comes from his throat sounds strangled, "Hey! What are you doing?"

Armin continues to shovel his belongings together  as Jean stares with his mouth practically to the floor. He stops waiting for a response when Armin pushes his chair in and starts towards the door.

"Armin," Jean bemoans. He slides back out of his chair, the sound of it scrapping against the wood of the floor makes Armin pause long enough for Jean to make it behind him just as he's opening the door. Jean shuts it back.

"I'm trying to get my work done, Jean," Armin says matter-of-factly, to the door.

"Yeah?" Jean asks, pressing Armin against it, pleased at the stifled sigh that's followed.

"Yes," Armin hisses, "That's what I just said."

It was what he said, but it definitely wasn't what he meant. Jean weighs whether or not it's worth it to bring it up. It could possibly kill the mood, and god knows Jean hates this subject, but then there's the idea that once they get this out of the way, Jean will get what he wants. There's also the chance that it could backfire and make Armin regress into his old, tightly wound ways.

Decisions, decisions.

Jean presses into the smaller man, pushes right up against him so that his lower torso molds with the curve of Armin's back side. He notes the sudden tension with a raised eyebrow, tries to sound as innocent as possible.

"Are you OK?" Jean whispers, right in his ear which is so red Jean has to fight back a cheeky grin.

"I can't breathe," Armin mutters.

Jean rolls his eyes, but softens his pressure a bit, in case he isn't just being dramatic. 

"Sorry," Jean husks, adjusts his weight accordingly, and presses his lips against Armin's ear. "Is there a reason why you can't finish here?" he murmurs.

Armin doesn't respond verbally, but Jean swears he's backed up into Jean's embrace just a tad bit. They stand there, breathing for a few moments, feeling each other. He keeps one hand pressed to the door, beside Armin's head and the other presses firmly at Armin's neck, molds into his shoulder, rubs at his upper arm soothingly before trailing downward in caution.

 Jean makes sure Armin's shoulders have slumped when he goes for it.

"Eren, right?" he questions knowingly, fingers closing around Armin's wrists. Armin startles, attempts to push Jean back and off of him, but the broader man does not budge.

"What--" Armin tries.

Jean sighs.

"You don't want to do it here because of Eren."

Armin pauses momentarily. 

Jean rolls his eyes. Armin tries to yank away again and Jean has to adjust his grip, pushing him back against the door as swiftly as possible. Armin growls defensively.

"He _asked_ me--"

"Yeah, yeah and threatened to move out otherwise. How polite."

"Jean," Armin warns. Jean raises an eyebrow.

"Why? " he asks.  " Let him leave. This is your place too. We can't just leave every time we want to touch each other! He's not your keeper, Armin. What, are you guilty? About last time?" 

"So what if I am?" Armin complains, he huffs, tossing hair over his shoulder as he turns to eye Jean from beneath his lashes. It's a challenge. Jean schools his expression

immediately and Armin pouts. "And maybe I like living with Eren. Do you have a problem with that? Is that a _problem_ , Jean?"

And okay, yeah, that's unfair.

And super petty.

What Armin thinks, though, is that Jean's going to argue with him and become distracted all together.

Those blues look at him pointedly now, purposefully batting his lashes, eyes going doe-y. It's supposed to make him give in, but really, it has the opposite affect. That look really titters the line of innocent and sexual and the blood in Jean's loins have chosen which way he's going to take it today. 

"Are you really going to argue with me about this?" Armin asks in a way that presumes he's won.

If that's all he has, he's already lost.

Jean shrugs as nonchalantly as possible and levels Armin with a narrowed look.

"More like persuade," he supplies evenly.

"That's a form of argument."

Did Jean mention Armin was petty?

Armin turns away and stares stubbornly at the door and yeah, that won't do. 

Jean nuzzles at Armin's neck, rubbing the hair from the beard he keeps on his own jaw around to  the pink, sensitive skin of Armin's nape. When Armin goes quiet, he moves in, adding pressure once more. 

"Eren's not here, Armin," he nips at him, tilts his head so that he can press feathery kisses just beneath his pale jaw. "Armin..."

"It's the principal," he tries, but it's weak and he's reached his hand behind himself to thread his surprisingly dainty fingers through Jean's long, parted locks. Jean stifles a sigh.

"Oh, the principal?" he asks instead and nips at his ear.

"Something like that," Armin breathes.

"Right, right." Jean snickers.

Utter nonsense.

Jean tilts his hips, angles them back against Armin's behind once more.

Armin snorts, but Jean is fully aware that there was no quip that follows.

"C'mon, he'll never know," he husks, running his tongue along Armin's lobe, drawing it between his lips. 

"Jean," Armin tries again, "I want to be a good, respectable--" Jean applies the smallest bit of pressure with his hips, rubs himself thoroughly against Armin's pert ass.

 

When Armin doesn't continue, Jean ruts once more with more pressure.

"Hum? What was that?"

Jean watches the side of Armin's face that he can see. His lashes have fluttered, his lids have closed. At the sound of Jean's voice, his eyes shoot open.

"Jean."

"Mhm?" 

"Let go."

"No, here."

Jean begins to rock softly, pressing himself repeatedly against Armin's plush ass, his cock hard and throbbing, hot against his boyfriend's thin pants.

"Oh."

"Hm?"

_"Oh."_

"Mhm."

Each thrust pushes Armin against the creaky old door with a soft 'thud', the wood squeaks just a bit, but the sound of it is enough to make Jean hot all over. Armin's fingers pull at Jean's hair, tugging the strands at his scalp just enough to make him moan and latch onto Armin's neck, sucking, biting and licking in time with his thrusts. 

thud, thud, thud.

Jean barely hears Armin's mumbling and he can hardly stop his pace to make out the words.

"--Don't. want. him. to. leave."

"Let him."

"He'll. kill you."

"Let him."

Armin guffaws, laughs breaking into another moan as Jean applies more force, grinding down longer, biting harder. It's gotten so intense that Jean's surprised himself. Rutting against each other like when they were kids and afraid someone would catch them in the barracks. Now, they don't have to hide it and Armin is making sure Jean knows he's enjoying it. His voice is soft. Every thud is accompanied now by the sweetest little 'ah's'.

Armin flips himself around, presses his back to the door and wraps his leg around Jean's calf. His eyes are wet and warm with arousal, lashes sticking together so pretty, so sexy that Jean could cum from looking at him. Faced together like this they only  need to move an inch barely before they can press themselves against each other. Jean is having trouble refraining and he can't wait until Armin's fretful protests subside.

"Arm," Jean doesn't necessarily beg, but his voice cracks a little and his tongue is heavy and dry and Armin rests his hand on Jean's hot cheek. Jean can feel his sweaty pulse call for him, throbbing just beneath his skin, right against Jean's cheekbone. He moves his hand, strokes his fingers along Jean's jaw.

"I guess if he won't know..." he says slowly, eyes drifting away from Jean's bashfully. It barely gets out of his mouth before Jean lifts him, hands grabbing at his small thighs and pressing him back up against the door, lips attaching to his like he's got all the air to breathe.

Jean goes all for it this time. He makes sure his tongue slides immediately between Armin's lips, prevents him from saying any other silly things. Armin complies so easily, submitting so sweet to Jean. He nearly mewls when Jean presses his palm between them, right up against Armin's protruding bulge. The trousers they wear are tight enough, so thin in material that Jean swears he feels a slight wetness right there. 

Armin sighs at the touches and Jean nearly growls as he pulls away.

"Jean," Armin breathes, nuzzling into Jeans shoulder, thrusting against his sweaty palm.

"I know, baby," Jean feels hot and hazy as he watches the sultry movements. Armin has taken his hand and holds it to himself as he twists to get more friction and Jean watches through heavy lids. 

"Jean."

"Hm? What d'you want? You're doing just fine by yourself, aren't you?"

"Mmph, n-no,"

"All wet, huh? That's crazy, how wet you get." Jean squeezes his handful and Armin keens. "So dirty. I thought you were busy--"

"Mmm, no," Armin growls, attacking Jean's lips once more, "I changed my mind. C'mon--"

Jean snickers but it's dry and raspy and it cuts off with a moan because Armin starts fondling Jean through his trousers, fingers finding his head beneath the fabric and pinching just enough to rock Jean's body with ecstasy.

Jean thinks he may squirt right then.

"C'mon," Armin commands again,  adjusting his grip so that his hand is in Jean's pants and wrapped around his erection, warm and firm. Jean grits his teeth and follows as

Armin pulls him back towards the table, leading him with the grip on his cock. The paper work is forgotten, scattered across the floor. Jean busies himself with removing Armin's jacket and tossing it to the ground, adding to the mess between kisses.

Armin jacks him slowly, even as he uses his free hand to find the table behind him and lift himself up onto the surface, spreading his knees wide enough for Jean to slot himself in between.

"Filthy," Jean croons through a shudder, as Armin wiggles the tip of his nail in Jean's slit and spreads his pre-come in circles around the head of his dick.

Armin nips at his bottom lip in response. Retaliating, Jean thrusts his hips hard enough that it knocks Armin's hand out of the way and he juts up right into Armin's loins. Armin's responding moan is so sweet that Jean wants to cry. He works on Armin's pants quickly, swiping away Armin's teasing hands as best as he can to prevent an early end.

"Can't even wait can you?" Jean breathes excitedly, knocking away teasing hands once more. Armin growls and settles for jacking himself off as Jean removes his pants from around his skinny ankles and kisses up his milky calves.

"Never," he breathes.

"That's right," Jean praises sweetly between his soothing ministrations.

Armin sighs at his approval, runs his hands through Jeans hair as he kisses up around his pelvis, into the crease between his thigh and his balls and starts to suck.

"Oh fuck," he starts and Jean nearly creams his pants at the swear.

"Oh, oh, Jean."

"Baby," Armin continues, babbling incoherently as Jean kisses his way up his dick and swallows him whole.

"Oh, yes," he cries.

Jean hums before sucking and Armin sounds like an absolute dream.

"Jean, Jean, Jean," Armin coos and Jean could do this all day if his own erection weren't throbbing so harshly between his legs. He goes to pull back but Armin's thighs clamp down around his head, force him to stay, rocking up into his mouth at and alarmingly fast rate.

It's hot and so goddamn sensual Jean almost sees white. In the back of his head he worries Armin has lost control too soon but loves so much how crazy and wet Armin gets just from a bit of head that he couldn't be bothered to voice his concerns even if he were able.  
He lets his mouth be fucked and he keeps his jaw open and pliant and doesn't even regret it when Armin comes right on his tongue and down his throat. Instead he lets himself be held in place and sucks Armin's finish like it's what he needs.

Armin's nearly crying by then. When he finishes he almost knees Jean's head right off his shoulders to get his mouth off of his now too sensitive parts. Jean pulls back with no complaints, wipes the corner of his mouth and stands, hovering over Armin's form which has collapsed so that he's lying back on the table, struggling to breathe.

"Jean," Armin sighs, contently now and Jean shucks off his underwear so that they're both completely nude now. 

"Yes baby, you feel good, don't you? I made you feel so good, didn't I?"

Armin whines as Jean kneels down and prods at his entrance which is loose and easy from his recent orgasm. It doesn't take long at all before Jean his himself fully sheathed inside of Armin who's still coming down to earth as he starts his thrusts.

"Ah," Armin cries, blissed out and lazy.

"Yeah," Jean groans, rocking back and forth going deeper and deeper, burning, enclosed around Armin's insides, pressing and angling closer and closer to the point where he's hardly pulling back and is just rutting up into Armin's ass with reckless abandon.

"Ah, ah, ah," Armin sings.

Jean pushes Armin's knees back so he can hover fully and get a look at Armin's blissed out face. He's red all the way down to his chest and his eyes are fluttering uncontrollably but there's a twitch of annoyance that crosses his expression, the tiniest grimace whenever Jean rucks up into him and his body slides backwards across the decidedly uncomfortable wood. 

Jean pulls out completely. Armin starts to protest but Jean quiets him with a searing kiss, unable to voice his thoughts because of how molten he is all over. He needs at least a moment for his throat to unstick.  
 He lifts Armin again, lets the blonde wrap his legs around his hips before carrying him out of the office all together. Armin peers through his loosened hair to get a look at where Jean has taken him and the resulting groan would've made Jean laugh heartily if he weren't so ready to get his rocks off. 

"God, Jean," Armin tries but Jean ignores him and busies himself with rolling the compliant blonde over onto his stomach and scooching his hips up into the air atop of Eren's very own bed. Armin adjusts his upper body and holds himself up on his fore arms. His hips push backwards purposefully just as Jean starts his thrust in.

"You're horrible," Armin moans.

"His room was closest."

"Terrible, ah,"

"He won't mind."

"Uhh,"

"But what would he think? Getting yourself fucked right in his bed! Uh, he'd be pissed. But you can't help it, uhn,  you little slut, uh."

"Noo--ahh, uhh,"

"That's right, sweetie, baby boy,"

"God."

"That's it, uh, uh."

Eren's bedframe knocks against the wall and Jean sees what it does to Armin. It's definitely not shame, no matter how much he pretends to be affronted.

"Jean," he whines.

"Almost, Almost," Jean grunts, teeth grinding together, abs clenching tightly.

Armin throws his head back, hand blindly reaching for some desperate sort of support from the bedframe, bracing himself against Jean's wild thrusts. It's enough to do it for him.

"There it is, there it is sweetheart, I'm coming, hold on, I'm coming,"

"Ah,"

"Guhhh," Jean nearly explodes, or at least, that's how he feels when his release gushes on one last inward thrust. He shudders, rests his red, sweaty face against this petite, arched back as Armin takes it all.

The following few moments are pure bliss and then suddenly the worst sort of hell.

Armin gasps and then a pillow knocks Jean at the back of his head.

"Jean!?" Armin wails. Jean peeks up at his disgruntled lover.

"Um," he tries, half-heartedly.

"In his bed!? He's going to know!" Armin shrieks, kicking Jean's collapsed body off of him in his escape from beneath him. Jean winces and rolls over onto his back, throws his arm over his face as he tries to gather himself.

It serves Eren right, in Jean's opinion. 

Armin kicks him again.

"Gah! Stop!"

He'd sworn he hadn't said it aloud.

"Get up, he'll be home soon!" Armin shoves him right off the side of the bed.

"Armin," Jean whines from the floor and the other ignores him as he goes about fixing all the bedding and pillows, redoing the sheets and checking for any traces of them left

behind. Jean watches Armin leave the room and rush, as best as his limping allows Jean thinks smugly, towards the office where he's probably picking up strewn papers, straightening the tables and gathering their clothes. 

He hears all this and he feels a little guilty.

Jean would help, but damn he feels good and sort of tired, too. His hot skin cools against the wood floor so nicely, he can't be bothered to move. All he wants is to cuddle, honestly.  
This wouldn't be a problem if Armin just lived with Jean to begin with.

When Armin's finished and he comes to retrieve him, he's met with obnoxious snores.  
\----

"Why're you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?"

"Erm, no," Armin says reluctantly as he watches Eren meander to his desk and spread his paper work about the surface before running a hand through his long, inky locks.

"Then what's your problem?" he asks curiously. 

"Um, nothing?"

Eren scrunches up his face at Armin as he undoes the clasps of his uniform warily and starts heading to his room.

"Was Jean here?" he calls.

"No," Armin says too quickly, averting his eyes from the look he receives from the hallway

"Okay..." Eren twists the doorknob to his room.

"Alright," Armin chuckles nervously.

Eren pauses and Armin tries to look busy.

"It's not that I care," Eren starts, backing away from the door and Armin starts to die just a little in side. "Hey...You guys don't have to tip toe, you know? We're all adults, right? He can be here, or whatever."

That has to be the most mature thing Eren has ever uttered and Armin cannot even appreciate it correctly because he's too busy drowning in a pool of his own guilt.

"Oh, thanks." He tries and fails to sound appreciative and can only think to curse Jean when Eren looks apologetic at his tone.

Armin pushes back out of his chair and gathers his own belongings hastily. 

"You're leaving?" Eren asks, confusion wrought on his face, "I thought we were going to talk about transformation work today, to prepare for Hange--"

"--Yeah, no, I promised Sasha I would help her with her targets today. I'm sorry! I forgot we were doing anything important. Tomorrow?"  
Armin grabs his coat nervously. He ought not be so hasty, he's sure everything is back in order as he took care of it himself, but he doesn't think he can look Eren in the eyes if he watches him go in there after what they've done.

"Sure?" Eren rolls his eyes and opens his bedroom door, going in and out of Armin's sight.

Armin stops what he's doing and holds his breath.

_"What the hell!?"_

 

\----

 

Jean is in his own empty home down to just his underwear, scratching his chest in front of his stove when the weak little knock sounds on his front door. He removes the pot from the flames, careful of his exposed skin, to set it aside. Except, he's not careful enough because his pinky grazes the side of the pot just enough that it fucking stings. He snatches it back and sticks it in his mouth on his way to the door.

Fully prepared to ignore whoever it is so that he can avoid the need to find clothes, he peeks out through the curtain of his window as unnoticeably as possible. At the sight he startles, whipping around to throw the door open, lack of clothes be damned.

Armin stands on his step with his arms crossed and his face a brilliant red.

"Armin, what's going on?" Jean sees his bags and his mind only sputters more.

"I've been evicted," he mutters.

Aghast, a sense of understanding settles on Jean then.

"I thought the threat was that _he_ would move out?"

"He wasn't really thinking about past agreements at the time."

Jean winces and steps aside.

"How'd he figure?" he asks, as Armin shoulders through the door way with particularly large bag of luggage. Jean takes it from him.

"The headboard," Armin sighs, not bothering to argue.

"No kidding!?" Jean backs up to allow him through and then drops his handful in the middle of the floor before going back to start grabbing the rest of his bags, trying to contain his mirth and pride.

"Stop that," Armin calls back to him. Jean's sure the guy has eyes at the back of his head or something. Nevertheless, it wipes the smirk of his face instantly. "Why don't you have on any clothes?"

"That hard, huh?" Jean tries to sound understanding and not fascinated, ignoring the later question all together. He plops the last of Armin's bags on the living room floor and goes to Armin who's sat atop the couch depressed.

"Marks all on the walls and everything!" Armin groans, gripping Jean's hand, "And then, he tells me he'd known he'd smelled it on me when he came in! He smelled our sex, Jean. That's insane!"

"Yeah, what a creep," Jean agrees, with a nod.

Armin shoots him a glare. 

"We're the creeps," he corrects properly. "We owe him so much for the trouble. I hope you're prepared to get on your knees and give him the most ridiculously pathetic apology. It's the least we can do.." 

Jean actually doesn't care in that moment, because while it's not ideal, he supposes this entire situation is one way to get what he wants. He eyes the bags on the floor and then his beautiful, flustered boyfriend who's head is bowed in shame before he lifts his chin with the tips of his fingers to grab his attention.

Armin's eyes are wide and curious and Jean leans in to kiss the tip of his stupidly cute button nose.

"Move in with me?" He proposes, finally gathering the courage to say it aloud. His eyes search Armin's face earnestly as he thumbs his bottom lip. 

To deny that there was a nervous twisting occurring in his gut at the following silence would be to lie horribly.

"Hm," Armin raises his eyes to the ceiling and knocks away Jean's shaking hand to tap at his chin. "Mikasa has a spare room she offered me awhile back. I could probably move in once she's back from her trip to Sina."

Jean doesn't hide the fact that he feels absolutely crushed at the thought.  
 Armin must see it on his face immediately because he suddenly kisses Jean so abruptly that Jean falls back wards on the couch at the force of it. He leans down and kisses him all over his face before planting another smooch right on his lips.

"Honestly!" Armin huffs when he pulls away, "I've been waiting forever for you to ask."

"Wait--Does that mean--?"

Jean tries to voice his shock but Armin is kissing him again and he doesn't bother to protest because that's far more important.

 

 

x

\---

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very productive.
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know what you liked/Didn't. Would anyone be interested in this becoming a series with different perspectives? Lemme know!
> 
> Xo


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